His Face

your move

"no please, don't hurt me!" you stare at the figure before you, blood staining their shirt. your teary eyes trickle up to meet the ice cold ones staring back at you. terror, sorrow, disgust filling their eyes. as they stepped closer, your heart raced faster. this was the end..

"y/n wake up, we're here,"

your eyes flutter open, you were confused yet relived, that is until you saw the building in front of you. "addison apartment" this place looked like a dump. it was a tall building, covered in dirty bricks, almost like they were made of mud. the green door on the front that stuck out like a sore thumb. the more you stared at the place the more you felt uneasy. you didn't know what was wrong but you had a feeling about the apartments. it was nothing you had interest in nor hoping for but your dad always told you to be optimistic, so you were

"maybe the insides better?" you flashed a fake smile at your mom, she gave one back,

"hopefully, if not well, not much we can do,"

you never wanted to move into an apartment, but you knew your mom on her own couldn't sustain the both of you and afford a house. you were only here until she could afford one. she promised you that the last house you lived in was going to be the last, but that was not the case.

you and your mom walked into the rugged building. as you walked in the first thing you noticed was the carpet and the smell. the lobby smelled like old tea and dirt. the carpet was old, it was a dirty green color that was tearing apart with specks of dirt and other unknown things in it. as you walked a bit further you noticed the dull metal mailboxes. some boxes were filled to the brim as if the person they belonged to were dwelling in their apartment yet to come out, while others looked normal. one caught your eye though. it had neon yellow tape going right across it. your curiosity begged for you to take it off but you didn't, there might be something dangerous in there,

"what apartment are we in again?" you were hoping your mom would say none of them but to no avail, she said the number as proud as she could be. your mom had been through a lot in her life so she tried to be optimistic as much as possible. you admired this but at the same time hated it. especially in situations like these.

"404, but hey, when we get up there, i'll have to go. i've got some stuff i have to do. if you could, unpack the kitchen supplies," her voice trailed to more of a high pitched questioning one

"uh..sure,"

as you finish unpacking the last of your things you question how this much stuff could fit in a small space. the rooms in these apartments weren't terrible, definitely not the prettiest. the wallpaper was a slight off white color with specks of dirty yellow. the floor was colored same green that the carpet in front of the door was. the smell that was on the first floor was now gone and hadn't crept through the entire building. after examining the room for a good 2 minutes making sure everything was in its place you plop down right on your bed and stare at the ceiling. you try to recall the nightmare you had in the car. the most you could remember was you were about to be killed and that was it, no more no less. after about 20 minutes of giving yourself a headache trying to remember the looks of your murderer you get bored. you jumped from your bed and headed towards the front door.

" meeting my neighbors could keep my mind off of these things..hopefully,"